The Journal
by DystopianDuckie
Summary: You've all heard of Natalie Prior - the mother of Tris - but how much do we really know about her? How much did Tris really understand about her past in their abnegation relationship where questions were forbidden? (Contains Allegiant spoilers on certain things so don't read if you haven't read it yet.) PS this is my first fanfic so any comments would really make my day!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Get off me!" I yell at the man whose arm currently rests on my shoulders, trying to help me get off the truck and onto the concrete floor.

"Alright, alright. Calm down, will you?" He says back to me as he quickly removes his hand and edges back a few paces, watching me the whole time with his hand edging towards his gun. In one swift movement I jump down off the truck-bed and then lean back to sling my bag over my shoulders. I almost wince at how light it feels – all of my worldly possessions and I can barely even feel it.

"What is this place?" I ask my escort as I finally start to relax a little and look around me. I stand before a sprawling mass of buildings, all finely built out of steel and glass. Even the grass here is well maintained, trimmed and orderly – a stark contrast from the fringe where I have been spending all of my time recently. _Clipped grass wasn't exactly a priority there. I wonder what is here?_ I try not to think of my time before that, when I lived in the suburb with my parents. It will only make me nervous if I do.

"This is the Bureau of Genetic Welfare, used to be an airport – but we don't really need many of them anymore." He chuckles lightly to himself, more of an uneasy way to break the silence than in response to anything funny. I try the words over in my mind. _The Bureau of Genetic Welfare. _It sounds sort of ominous, and very official. But if they are aligned with the government then they will send me back to my mother, back to the place that used to be my home. I don't know what I will have to do, but there is no way I am going back there. Ever.

"Why am I here?" There is fear in my voice this time, even though I try my best to hide it. I don't know a lot, I know that, but being picked up in the fringe and brought here doesn't exactly seem good. I wonder if they saw what I did there, if they saw the man lying dead in the street.

"You'll find out when we get inside." And then the man turns away from me, signalling that the conversation is over. I don't need to try to know that he won't tell me anything more. Either he simply doesn't know, or it is something that I don't want to hear. _Personally I prefer the first option. _

So I remain silent as we head along the tarmac pavements, away from the parked trucks. There is a statue to my right, some kind of block with water in a tank above it. I would like to stop and have a closer look, but the man keeps walking at a steady pace ahead of me. If I stopped for even a second then I would lose him. Something tells me he wouldn't be too pleased about that.

Once through the wide double doors of the compound I am led down a narrow corridor and into a tiny room. There is no furniture and no windows, making my wonder what this room is used for. Probably a store room of some kind, although if that is its purpose it is surprisingly empty at the moment. The man shuts the door behind me and I hear the jingle of keys through the thin wood. I wait a moment and then try the door cautiously with one hand, the other dangling by my side. Locked. I had guessed as much. I slump down against the wall beside the door so my body will be hidden when it opens. I hope it isn't necessary here, but you never really know. Living in the fringe can teach you that it is often better to be careful than cocky. Cocky people usually die pretty fast. But even if the door was open, it's not like I have anywhere to go. As far as I am concerned as long as I get a place to sit I don't really care where it is.

It's hard to tell how much time passes until the door opens again, but by now I am pacing up and down the tiny space, trying to restore feeling to my numbed limbs. It is a woman in a white lab coat who enters, probably in her mid thirties or forties – I have never been that good at guessing. She looks at me, staring right into my eyes, but she doesn't smile.

"Give me your arm." She says, her voice is hard and impatient, as if seeing me is a waste of time and she would rather be anywhere else. I can't say I blame her – I have been thinking the same thing since I was put here. Instinctively I wrap my arms tightly around my body. I don't even know this woman, let alone what she plans to do to me – there is no way I am going to give her my arm. You don't survive life in this world by trusting people.

"I will do this by force if I have to," She says and motions back to the guards who stand on either side of the door. They are big. I mean, BIG. Not to mention the guns clutched in their hands. Reluctantly I untangle my arm and reach it out towards her, my eyes trying to watch all three of them and failing.

The woman pulls back the sleeve of my hoody and wipes a section of my arm with an antibacterial cloth. Just as I am about to ask what she is doing she plunges a needle from her other hand into my arm and it takes all of my willpower not to yank my arm away. She pulls back the plunger from my arm and I watch as thick red liquid oozes into the syringe. Blood. This woman is taking my blood. But why?

After a moment she removes the syringe, methodically hands me a wad of cotton wool and leaves the room as swiftly as she entered, carrying the syringe in one hand like it is the most natural thing in the world. I curse slowly under my breath and dab the cotton wool to the injection sight, a tiny blob of blood left behind on the white fluff, before slumping down against the wall again and resigning myself for what could be a long wait.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I wake to the sound of the door opening and stretch out my neck to try and remove some of the pain. I don't remember falling asleep and I have no idea how much time I have spent here, but there is less light filtering in from the corridor, so I am guessing it is now night.

Six people file into the tiny space, causing a cramped uneasiness. Two of them are guards, the same two men from before, but their guns are tucked away in holsters this time. The two to my left are in lab coats, although the woman who took my blood isn't with them, and hold some kind of screen in their hands. The last two are dressed in suits and something about the way they stand, the way they change the atmosphere in the room, makes them feel important. I stand quickly; I don't think these are the kind of people I want to get on the wrong side of.

"Name?" The guard on my left asks bluntly.

"Natalie, Natalie Wright." My voice sounds loud in the enclosed space, almost angry; I need to learn to keep my cool.

"Natalie Wright, would you come with us, please?" One of the suited men asks me. It is the first time that someone here has presented me with a request rather than an order, even if in principal it stands for the same thing – I have no choice in the matter no matter what I say. Still it changes the dynamic, makes me more willing to obey him. A choice, or even the pretence of a choice, is always better than none at all.

The sound of my name still sends unease through me – that name links me to my parents, to my mother, and she is someone who I would rather forget. I follow them out into the corridor and along for a little way, a few people stop and stare at me but for the most part the compound is empty as we arrive in a new, larger room overlooking the fountain outside.

The three outer facing walls are made entirely of glass, as well as a large sky-light in the ceiling. For a moment all I can do is look upwards, at the sea of stars that hangs above me. I don't want to look out into the world, where the fringe and all of my troubles reside, but I don't mind looking up, I have nothing to fear there. Yet.

"If you would like to take a seat." It is the same man who spoke in the room, his voice polite and comforting. I can't tell yet whether it means he is just an established liar, someone to be fearful of, or a man who has a genuinely kind heart who I should trust. But trust hasn't been my default for a long time, that is something that has to be earned and so far these people haven't done anything to earn it.

His voice draws me back to the room, a space filled with tables that form a square and are lined with chairs. A conference room, I guess, though I don't know why I am here. I choose a seat to the right hand side of the room and slide into it while the others do the same around me. None of them sit in the seat beside me and I am glad, I would prefer a wide berth at the moment – until I know what it is they want with me.

"I presume you have heard of the damaged state of many people's genes, and of the purity wars that wreaked havoc in our nation." I shoot him a look across the tables.

"Of course I do." I snap back, and try to keep my voice neutral. Anyone who knows anything knows about it, it would be hard to have missed that out. "What does that have to do with any of this?"

"You may be surprised to find that it has _everything_ to do with this." He continues. "We brought you here to test your DNA, to discover whether your genes were damaged or not." I suppose that explains the blood, but why me? Why do they even care about my genes in the first place?

"And...were they?" I don't see why they had to drag me all the way out here to lock me in a room for hours and then tell me I am damaged goods. I mean, let's face it, both of my parents were GD's, genetically damaged. There is almost no point in hoping that I could be any different – especially not after the things I have done.

"On the contrary," One of the women in white lab coats interjects after a signal from the leader, "you have a very pure set of DNA." She sounds almost surprised at that, but not nearly as surprised as I am. Maybe this means I have a chance to be different from _them_, I can be somebody good.

"Well... thank you, I guess." I say when the silence starts to drag out in the room. It is a friendly silence this time, though, and I start to feel a little more comfortable around them. Only a little, but it's a start. With their big surprise over they seem to have lost track of what to say, of what they planned to do with me after they decided I was worth keeping. I shudder at the thought – would I be facing a different set of faces if the results had been different? I highly doubt they would have brought me here for a polite discussion about it all. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" I direct my speech to the man across from me, the one who seems to be in charge here, and link my fingers together on my lap – a nervous habit from my childhood.

"It seems you have already asked one," He says and laughs lightly, "but by all means ask another, anything you like. I'm Jonathon, by the way, the leader of this compound." He adds the last part as an afterthought but I am glad to finally have a name to assign to these people, something to ground my failing knowledge of this place.

"Well, Jonathon," I begin hesitantly, aware that my future may hang in these words, "what happens to me now?" There are a thousand other questions in my mind but right now this is what I need to know. I have been through a hell of a lot in the past few months, at least this time I might have someone else tell me what will happen.

"You can either relocate to one of the cities," His voice remains calm but my heart starts to beat in overtime, panic filling every inch of my body. I can't go back to the cities. I can't go back to _her_. I don't care what the alternative is, anything would be better than that. "Or you could stay here at the Bureau. You would be a welcome addition here." Jonathon smiles, a warm and reassuring smile, as some of the panic starts to seep out of me. I haven't seen much of this place, but it's a million times better than the fringe will ever be and I don't have a lot of options to play with.

"Thank you, I'd really like to stay." I say with my most convincing smile, as I look around me at the compound with fresh eyes.

"A quick decision – you must like it here." Jonathon says and laughs. I join him, somewhat more anxious, but I can see in his eyes that he knows part of the truth, knows that this place is worlds apart from where I have been living. "I'll sort an apartment and some clothes out for you tomorrow, I'm afraid you'll have to sleep in the hotel tonight." And with that he gets up to leave, the others following suit behind him. I stand as they file out of the room, one guard remaining to show me the way to the hotel.

"Follow me." He says and I do. I follow him to a room with freshly made beds and fluffy pillows where I collapse onto a mattress after slipping off my shoes and fall into a deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hi guys, this is the third chapter but I probs won't be able to update again until the weekend (I might - but I doubt it). Please review if you want because it would mean so much to me - even bad reviews so I know what I need to improve) This is my first fanfiction so any feedback would be really helpful!**

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Chapter 3

Sunlight warms my back as I slowly open my eyes, lightening my mood. I allow myself a few precious moments to enjoy the feeling – sunlight and safety. I can't remember the last time I felt this secure. _Or if I ever have._

Eventually I get up and stretch out my aching body, a large yawn escaping my mouth. If I wasn't standing in the hotel of a former airport, turned government facility right now then there is no way I could believe this is real. Yesterday I woke in a tarpaulin shack to find my coat had been stolen and I had been rained on during the night – heavily. Today is already one up from that and it has barely begun.

A few minutes of exploring rewards me with the showers, sparkling white and pristine with clean towels laid out on the benches. I hop in and lather my body with soap, scrubbing all the dirt and blood away. I attack my hair next, throwing product at it until the dull, matted mess resembles the blonde locks I once knew.

The towels are warm and soft, a little piece of luxury that I promise I will never take for granted again. I look down at my clothes, a dishevelled heap on the floor, and after a moment pick up my t-shirt. It was blue once, like the sky, but it is more brown than anything now that the dirt has layered up on it. The pattern, two birds in flight, has faded, too, leaving only a wing-tip and the slightest hint of a beak. Not to mention the smell. It stinks like sweat and blood and dirt and there is no way I can put that top back on. For a long time. Possibly ever.

A quick inspection of my other clothes doesn't reveal good news either. I remember Jonathon mentioning something about clothes last night – someone has probably left some in my room by now. _At least I hope they have._

Deciding that ultimately I have no choice in the matter – I can't hide in the bathroom all day – I wrap the towel around me tightly and walk out of the bathroom back to the place where I slept last night. But two paces into the room I stop, the heat rushing to my cheeks as I blush profusely and hope that the ground with split apart and swallow me whole. It would be a merciful death right now.

"Hi." I manage to squeak at the boy who is sat on one of the beds, a stack of clothes beside him. He has a mass of brown hair and is about my age, maybe a little older. He is fairly good looking, too, which only adds to my embarrassment as I clench the towel even harder.

"I brought you some clothes." He says after a moment of strained silence and points to the pile next to him. "I'll leave you to get dressed." He hurries to the door like the room is on fire. Which as far as I am concerned, it is.

"Wait," I call after him and he stalls for a moment, "could you wait outside. Then maybe we can try this again." I smile, partly at the insanity of the situation and partly at the embarrassment so deep I feel I should probably find a nice deep hole and die. I could always dig one, I suppose.

I dress quickly after he leaves the room, slim-cut jeans and a branded t-shirt with a zip-up hoodie and some boots. They all fit surprising well, much better than what I have got used to wearing, anyway, and after tying the laces on the boots I walk over to the door, take a deep breath, and open it to find the boy leaning up against the wall and humming to himself like this is the most normal thing in the world.

"Hi, I'm David." He says confidently and extends his hand. I shake it, but the sensation is awkward – too formal to seem natural to me.

"Natalie." I say and glance at the floor as I turn and walk back into the dormitory. I can still feel a trace of heat in my cheeks but David seems to have forgotten all about it. Either that or he is very good at pretending. I consider apologising, but quickly discard the idea – I'm not bringing it up if he isn't. _I'm not completely dumb, after all. _

"So...you're new here, right?" David asks as he plunges himself onto the end of a bed. He seems relaxed, utterly at ease, and the feeling is contagious.

"Yeah, I arrived last night." I perch on the bed opposite and allow a smile to reach my lips. He's not a bad guy and I could definitely do with some friends here – it's a lonely world when you shut everyone out. I should know – I've been living in one for a while now.

"Have you had a tour of the place yet?"

"No, they sort of had other things on their mind last night." A part of me still shivers at the thought; locked in a room without being told what was happening. Those men could just have easily taken me to the side of the road and shot me, somehow my genes saved me from my fate. It still isn't a pretty thought. The contrast to David is unbelievable – he's barely shut up since he got here, not that I mind.

"The genetic testing? Don't worry about it; it is just standard procedure here. Come on, I'll give you the official tour." He stands up and heads out of the room, pausing in the doorway just long enough to beckon me to follow. His words bother me a little – it may be standard procedure here, but it the fringe? I doubt it. I quickly push the thoughts aside and stand, a laugh escaping my throat. It feels good to laugh again, in spite of everything that has happened. For the moment I am safe and I belong. I have learnt that you can't ask for more than that in life.

The 'tour' mainly reveals more of the same; sunlit hallways and labs full of science equipment. With anyone else I might have got bored, but David has a strange way of making each minute detail flare to life in an array of interesting stories and facts.

"This is the final lab we will see on the tour," he says as he pushes open yet another white door, "and, I must say, possibly the highlight of the _entire_ experience." He throws his arms up in a mock grand gesture and I can't help but laugh – everything seems so serious here, everything except him.

I follow him into the small space, a blast of cool air from the air-conditioning running down my spine. It has to be my favourite thing about this place; the way it can be bathed in a soft glow of sun while still remaining cool enough to be pleasant. Whoever organises the temperature systems definitely knows how to do their job.

Even so, for a supposed highlight the room isn't much to look at. A row of desks line the far side, the odd computer scattered between them, and to my left is a rack of microscopes and what look like samples – all immaculately labelled and filed away.

By the time I have finished looking around me I realise David is already hunched over a screen – eagerly tapping away at the keyboard, an easy smile on his face. Curiosity leads me to the chair beside him as I try to catch wind of what he is doing. It looks like some kind of file system but he shifts between lists so fast I never get a chance to read the names. I probably wouldn't understand them anyway – I haven't spent a lot of time around computers. _Or genetic scientists._

"Oh, where is it? Dylan promised me it was here." David mutters under his breath beside me, his eyes never once deviating from the screen. "Ah, there it is." I have no idea what 'it' is, but I guess it must be important for it to mean so much to him.

A few seconds later and David's expectant eyes present me with a screen so full of data that it all seems to swim around beneath my eyes.

"What is it?" I ask hesitantly, careful not to ruin what was obviously meant to be an enlightening moment.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He looks momentarily crestfallen, the sort of look a small child gets when they are upset. I can't help but think that, really, he is pretty cute. "I sort of forget that you aren't used to this sort of thing." He pauses and takes a few seconds to analyse the data in the jumble of digits before me. "That is your DNA," he says and points to the left-hand side of the screen, his finger stopping just before it makes contact with the glass, "and this is an example of some damaged DNA. If you look here," he points at a section of data again, "and over here, then you can see the contrast – how your DNA is much purer than the other sample."

He carries on explaining things for what seems like a long time, picking out the tiniest of differences that I would never have noticed. For the most part I nod attentively as I try to grasp the vast amounts of information set before me. I can only understand around eighty percent, if that, and I am sure David has simplified it down considerably for my benefit. Even so, it is hard not to be captivated by the opportunity to study the building blocks, the very code that makes me who I am. Fascinating, but also rather terrifying – these people have already made choices based on this information, choices that will affect the rest of my life. Somehow seeing it before me makes it hit home how little power I have over all of this – there is no way I could change my genes even if I tried.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Sorry that I couldn't update yesterday and if these chapters don't seem to have enough action in them - I am planning on adding some more to future chapters. Please read and review it would mean the world to me - I would love to know how to improve. (As you have probably already noticed I am from the UK so sorry if I use any language that seems strange e.g. mom = mum) So please Review and I hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter 4

"Is there anywhere I could get something to eat?" I ask David as he finally finishes explaining my DNA – for now at least.

"Of course, I'll show you to the canteen. It's nearly lunch anyway." As if on cue my stomach rumbles loudly – a little too loudly to be ignored by either of us. We both laugh a little and I wait by the door while he shuts the computer down. The truth of it is that I can barely even remember the last time I ate something – I haven't had any food since I got here nearly a day ago and my meals weren't that substantial when I was in the fringe before that.

"I probably should have included this on the tour, shouldn't I?" He asks as we turn a maze of corners, all white and seemingly identical. I don't know how I will ever find my way around on my own, but there must be a way – some detail that sets the corridors apart. If everyone else here can navigate then it is something I will have to learn too.

The canteen is large and crammed with people, both in blue and green clothing. David explains that the green represents the support staff – the genetically damaged who are responsible of the upkeep of the compound and are often the lab technicians. It flares up a spark of anger in me to see them treated as less than the others, less than me, but it is hardly surprising. I have grown up in a world of division and prejudice, for people here it is just a way of life. _But it still doesn't make it right._

I push the thoughts to the back of my mind and concentrate on following David's head as it bobs through the crowd ahead of me, towards a hatch in the far wall where food is being served. The smell is intoxicating to my aching stomach and until now, in this moment, I hadn't noticed quite how hungry I am – it is one of the things I always try to ignore. It's not like there is often anything I can do to change it anyway. But it looks like all of that is about to change.

"Natalie, the queues over here." David calls back to me and I use his voice to navigate my way through the people to stand next to him and wait for food.

"Is it always like this?" I ask, pointing to the room in general. I almost have to shout over the chatter and scrapes of forks against china as hundreds of people eat together.

"Yes, but this is the busiest time. I'm sorry if it's too much." He shouts back, a concerned frown on his lips.

"No, I like it." I say with a large grin on my face. I can't quite say what it is about the place but something about the atmosphere is so... alive. So many people eating and talking and living their lives, this room has probably seen every kind of human interaction there is: friendships, dates, proposals, fights.

"Then I think you might be crazy – it makes my head spin!"

We stand at the front of the cue, the warmth from the food wafting over me and the smell gnawing at my insides like an axman has got lost and wandered in.

"What would you like?" The woman behind the hatch asks me, but I can barely lift my eyes from the food to speak to her. There is a wide selection of dishes, some of which I don't really recognise, and the sheer hunger that eats away at every fibre of my being seems to steal all ability to make a choice. "Why don't I just give you a bit of everything? You look like you could do with a meal." She says and smiles as I try to stop the dribble from leaving my mouth and escaping haphazardly down my chin. She piles the plate with one spoonful and then another, not stopping until a mound of food weighs down my hands and I can hardly stop myself from just digging in right now in the queue.

But I wait for David, unsure of where to sit and what to do, as he chooses a dish and watches it arrive on his plate.

"That's not fair; she got loads more than me!" He complains, but I sense a hint of jest in his tone and a suppressed smile on his face; he may be able to control his mouth, but his eyes tell a different story. I look down at his plate of food, significantly smaller than my portion, and I start to laugh, not at him, well... really, more just at the whole situation. I have seen many fights for food in my life, but never any quite like this.

"She needs it." The woman says bluntly before turning away to serve the next person in line.

"Where do you want to sit and eat that mountain of dinner?" David asks me, the same tone of annoyance in his voice.

"I don't mind." In all honesty I just think that this whole situation will probably go a lot smoother if he chooses the seat; I don't know many people here, anyone actually, and sitting with the wrong people could end in a disaster.

He leads the way across the room, back towards the entrance where the queue is starting to wind out into the corridor. Just as I think he might be leaving the room entirely he serves violently to the left and I only narrowly avoid smashing into a girl pushing her way through people in the opposite direction.

I finally catch up with him as he slips into a seat at a table in the corner, a seat between two of his friends. I had worried that this would happen, that he would leave me on my own with complete strangers, although I suppose it had to happen sometime – I can't expect him to baby-sit me forever. _Not to mention he was a complete stranger a few hours ago. _

I sit down across the table from a girl about my age with cropped hair and a blue hoodie zipped up to her neck. I can tell by her face structure that she could be pretty if she tried – I wonder what made her choose to be like this instead, to stand out but for a different reason.

"Hi, I'm Natalie." I tell her as I swallow the first mouthful of food. It is rich and creamy, a sauce of some kind, and the sensation of it slipping down my throat, the taste lingering on my tongue, makes me feel like I am in heaven.

"Why do I care?" She snaps back at me, turns to the side and starts a conversation with a different girl. Her response shocks me at first, but I get over it soon enough and start to eat the rest of my food in silence. It would have been too much to ask for everyone to be friendly here, I know that, but I had hoped that maybe I could have been wrong. That maybe these people would be as good as they say they are – genetically pure and all that.

"Natalie, I'm sorry but I have to go; I have some work to do." David says over my shoulder as I finish the last forkful of food. My stomach is full, so much so that I feel if I eat anymore I am likely to explode - or throw up. _That is a definite possibility at the moment._"I'll come and find you later if you want." I nod at him and stand, taking my plate over to the stands at the side of the room as he leaves the canteen and heads into the corridor beyond.

When I look around me now the room stills seems alive, but it no longer seems like I am a part of it. I am the awkward cog that stops the motion of the wheel, the one standing alone in the hustle and bustle of humanity.

I count a full minute past before I finally give up on anyone talking to me and leave the canteen. Even after my tour of the place, I still have little idea of where anything is around here. A part of me wants to go back to where I slept last night, to find a little peace and quiet where I can try and process all that has happened to me, but I don't even know how to find it; navigating has never been one of my strengths.

It is probably a good thing, in this situation. If I go back to the room now then I will spend all day there and the idea of solitude isn't necessarily a nice one. I pick a corridor and set off down it, gazing out of the window at the neatly trimmed lawns and infant trees. The clouds have moved in a little now though, so the sun isn't quite as intense as before. It sort of feels like my mood – still pleasant, but lacking the spark that had made it special. That spark, I realise, was David; the compound without him is a bleak and lonely place to be. _I hope whatever work he has to do doesn't take all day. _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A few minutes of wandering leads me to the room back out near the entrance of the compound. There are a few people in here already but none of them turn to look at me as I hesitantly step over the threshold – they are all too engrossed in the screens that lie before them. I can't say I blame them – my eyes are drawn to the myriad of images that line the walls as I try to choose one to focus my attention on.

I don't notice my feet moving but suddenly I am mere inches from one of the screens on the wall nearest to me, my hand stretched out so that my palm hovers over the glass. I am not sure what the building I watch is, or where it is for that matter, but it is surrounded by children, no… teenagers about my age so I guess it must be a school of some sort.

There is a statue in front of the building with people all over it, daring each other to climb higher and higher. They are all clothed from head to toe in black with piercings and tattoos, so much so that it strikes me as odd. I drag my eyes away from the ones on the statue and over to the huddles of other teenagers who crowd around the doors and courtyards. They stand in different groups – completely separate – and each one is entirely dressed in a different colour scheme: blue, red and yellow, grey, black and black and white. It seems too organised to be out of personal choice – I mean, I know friends often dress alike, but that much?

"It's pretty interesting, isn't it?" A voice sounds from behind me. I turn with a jolt, wondering who would be talking to me. The voice belongs to a young woman with long, flowing blonde hair and a blue dress.

"Why are they all wearing the same things?" I ask her as I turn back to the screens.

"It's because of the factions." She says as if that answers the question. I turn to look at her and give her possibly the most quizzical look I can muster. By now I am getting fed up by the people here, by their assumptions of knowledge. Out in the real world I was a relatively smart kid, now I just feel like a new-born in a teenager's body – everything is different and new.

"What?" I say and try not to sound as ignorant as I now feel. I have no idea what factions are, or why it would make a difference to what clothes someone wears. Most people just choose the clothes they want to wear, not whatever colour scheme is dictated to them. Who would want to wear the same colour all the time anyway?

"Has no-one told you about the experiments?" She asks me, a look of complete wonder spread across her face as her eyes grow wider by the second.

"I suppose not." I say slowly, trying to remember if anyone had mentioned it to me while I have been here. _I can't say it rings any bells. _Not that it's that surprising, given how little I have actually been told since my arrival. 

She spends the next ten minutes or so explaining the entire history of the Chicago experiment, the faction system behavioural modifiers and the divergent, or genetically pure as we know them. My mouth hangs open for a long time and I have to move my hand and manually close it. How can there be a whole city full of people that I have never even heard of? It just can't be possible, but it is, that's the truth and I have to take it. The only good thing about the Bureau is that, as far as I can tell, so far they haven't lied to me. I can't say they have been open with information, with the exception of David, but when asked they seem all too happy to oblige.

"If you ask me it's all a bit strange, only having one characteristic, but it works, I guess. Better than it did without the factions, anyway." She says as she stares sceptically at the screen directly in front of us, the school from before. There are less people hanging around outside now, probably heading back into lessons if this footage is live, but it is still clear to see the stark contrasts between the factions.

"I think it's beautiful." I sigh through my teeth as I watch a different scene unfold before me. An orchard stands, full of steady life and tranquillity – something I had almost forgotten the world could offer. A girl walks onto the screen and perches herself carefully on a large tree root that grows up, out of the ground. The girl wears a red dress and a beaming smile, her movements smooth and elegant; she must be... amity, I think that is what the woman behind me said. A boy walks up to the girl on the screen and their mouths move as if talking, but I can't hear any sound.

"They really don't know about the cameras, do they?" I ask as the boy leans down to kiss the girl and I look away, a faint blush rising on my cheeks. It's not like I haven't seen people kiss before, it just feels wrong to spy on such an intimate and personal moment without them even knowing I am here.

"No. They have no idea there's a world beyond the city limits. They just live their own lives oblivious to what goes on out here – to the very reason they are in there in the first place." The woman says it sadly, in an almost pitiful way. But those people, no matter what world they have, are happy, and they don't need her pity for that.

"It doesn't look too bad." I argue as my eyes flick between the scenes before me, searching for unhappiness and finding none; everyone is cheerful. Everyone has somewhere to belong.

"I suppose, I would miss this world too much, though." Her words almost make a sick laugh gurgle up my throat but I manage to fight it down again. I can't think of a single thing I would miss about my life, but there is so much that I wish I could forget. My parents, my dad, the man in the fringe lying dead in a pool of blood – my doing.

"I have to go." I tell the woman as the monster of my own grief and guilt rears its head and gnaws away inside me. "Thank you for explaining everything." I barely register her brief nod as she returns to work and I dash out of the door like I can't move fast enough.

I sprint down the corridor, tears streaming down my face. I can't cry here, not in front of al these people.

I finally find an empty corridor just in time for hot, sharp acid to propel itself up my throat and form a large pool on the floor in front of me. My mouth burns with the aftermath but the process of expelling the vomit does help to ease some of the panic rising within me. I thought I could forget everything that had happened, that I could begin again here. Maybe I thought wrong.

"What are you doing here?" A gruff voice shouts from behind me. I turn to look as I wipe my nose on the sleeve of my hoodie. Deep inside I hear my mother's voice telling me that I shouldn't do that and then I wipe even harder. I don't care what my mother wanted – she never did anything for me. The flow of tears from my eyes has slowed, but there is still a steady passage of hot, salty tears moving down my face, washing away little lines in my skin. I gave up wiping them away a while ago.

"Leave me alone." I mumble at the three boys who stand before me. They are big, each one about twice my size, and muscular too, with shaved heads and tattoos covering every inch of visible skin.

"Why should we, cry baby? Your words don't mean anything here, anything at all. You're just a waste of space, a runaway and a murderer." He has a gleeful smile, and winks back at his friends as he clenches his fist in preparation. I hope it doesn't get that far, but I clench my hands into tight fists in mirror of his action. It would be a hard-pushed win, but there is no way I am going down without a fight.

"I said leave me alone." I repeat, stretching out each word as my voice fills with anger this time. I seem to react to his fist before I really see it, more of an instinctive feel than a reaction. I grab his bulky hand in mine and twist his arm around, pushing until it pops and he falls to the floor. His friends run, calling for help, and a tiny part of me knows that I should run too, should blend into the shadows and hide from my actions for as long as possible. But these people sought me out and attacked me and no matter how hard I try I can't erase the memory of his smile, the way he relished in my pain. He still has it even now I have beaten him and suddenly only one thing matters in the world – wiping that smile of his face.

Adrenaline causing through my veins I lash my foot out at his chest, kicking once, then again, and again, screaming until his eyes go dark and his hand falls limp before me. I vaguely hear someone calling my name as I crumple to the ground, the adrenaline rush fading and the terror of the situation kicking in as my eyes fade to blackness. My head rings with one thought, one terrible thought.

_I have done it again. _


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N I am so sorry that I haven't updated in AGES! I have been away all weekend and busy with school :( Also sorry that this chapter is quite short but I needed to update and I think it was good to end where I did. I will definitely update again soon though. Please please please read and review - feedback of any kind would really make my day and I would update a lot faster! **

**Hope you like it! (DISCLAIMER - all the characters and settings etc. belong to Veronica Roth, the best author of all time) **

* * *

Chapter 6

"Is he going to die?" My voice comes out as a quiet squeak as I squeeze David's hand tightly with my own. Our fingers are entwined and have been since he found me; to be honest the steady heat of his flesh against mine has been the only thing anchoring me to sanity. I can still feel the monster of grief fighting against me but for the moment it is subdued, defeated by David's presence and the reassurance he provides. For everyone's sake, I dread the moment when I let go.

"No, of course not." David comforts me but I can't take my eyes off the figure who lies in the bed. The boy I attacked was, is, called Sam, and looking through the viewing pane of Surgery 1 now, he looks a lot smaller than he did before, almost peaceful. "He's unconscious at the moment but other than a few broken bones he should be fine." _Other than a few broken bones. _I don't know about David but I don't normally write that off as fine.

David lets me watch for a few minutes more, clearly uneasy, before gently pulling my hand and guiding me over to the seats in the corner, still in view of the glass window. If I stretch my neck I can just about see Sam above the concrete rim of the window.

From the way David keeps eying the door, the longing apparent in his gaze, I guess he would rather be far away from here. A part of me would too, but I need to stay here; I'm the reason Sam is in hospital in the first place, the least I can do is stick around and check he's okay.

"Why do I do... this?" I ask as I point through the glass, unable to muster the words to explain myself. The truth of it is there are none to find. "What's wrong with me?" I sob and he wraps his arms tightly around me, forming a cage to protect me, as I rock back and forth on my chair.

"He provoked you." David whispers in my ear, his tone so confident and strong. "I saw it on the cameras; you weren't looking for a fight." He's right; of course, I tried to make them go away, to leave me alone to my grief and guilt. That still doesn't explain why I kicked a man when he was down, though – was breaking his arm not enough?

"And there's nothing wrong with you, you're...prefect." His words catch me off-guard but not nearly as much as the kiss. It is gentle and hesitant and he blushes bright pink as he slowly pulls away a moment later. "I'm sorry." He mumbles, looking away so he doesn't catch my eye.

"Don't be." I say as I turn his head with my hand and lean in so my lips meet his. I don't know if I love David, if I am even capable of loving anyone right now, but something about this feels right. If I had to trust my heart to anyone here it would be him, without a doubt, and if there's one thing I have learnt from today, it's that I can't cope in this place without him.

"Why were you in the corridor in the first place?" He asks as we pull apart again, both of us blushing now. "Laura said you ran out of the control room, upset about something."

"It was just some stupid memories." I say, looking down at my hands and tracing the lines of my palm.

"About the fringe?" He prompts me, pressing a finger to my neck to lift my eyes to his.

"Among other things. Look, I don't really want to talk about it." I think re-living those memories once in one day is more than enough to deal with without choosing to face them all over again.

"Okay." He says and laces his fingers with mine again. "You could always write them down somewhere, though, it's not good to keep things bottled up."

"Yeah, I might do." His fascination about it confuses me. He obviously cares a great deal about me, but is it purely just concern that drives him or curiosity for my actions? I suppose in the end it doesn't matter, it would still be nice to get it all off my chest. To let people judge me for who I really am, not some lie they have conjured in their brains.

I have done bad things, I have killed people. No amount of _pure_ genes can erase that from who I am. From the blood that runs through these veins.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Sorry that I haven't updated in ages (I have been really busy with Christmas and exams) and thank you so much if you have bothered to read this far. Your reviews or even just you reading it mean the world to me and there will definitely be another update again soon! PLEASE REVIEW! **

**DISCLAIMER: Veronica Roth owns all the cool stuffs... (you know what I mean) **

Chapter 7

The glare of the screens in the dark room stings at my eyes, only worsening the tears that still run down my cheeks. I don't know what time it is now, but the figures I watch have long since gone to sleep, so it must be pretty late. I only wish that sleep would come to me so easily – I suppose I haven't earnt that luxury yet. The journal sits open on the desk in front of me, still as closed as ever. Try as I might I can't quite bring myself to open the cover, to have to confront the empty white pages that lurk within. To have to fill them with my story, with my secrets.

Maybe David is right. Maybe writing this all down with help somehow, will stop the guilt from rearing its ugly head inside me. It would be nice for them to know, well... not nice, but a relief for certain. I am tired of carrying all of this on my shoulders. I open the book.

I force myself to start writing, to pick up the pen and carefully place it on the page. At first my hand rebels, refusing to stain the pearly whiteness with my mucky secrets, but I fight against the sensation - for once my self-defence mechanisms are more of a hindrance than a blessing. After that the words flow more easily though, a rush of letters and emotions that I channel onto the page, the odd tear splashing the paper and causing the ink to run. Once upon a time I might have cared.

One page, two, pass and I am lost to the story, to the freedom that it brings for my heart. All there is in this moment is the notebook and the screens to enlighten the shadows. For the first time in years I feel at ease and before long sleep starts to tug at my mind, lulling me to stop and rest for a while. But I can't rest, not now; there will be plenty of time for that when this is done.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been looking all over for you!" David's voice calls from somewhere in the darkness that surrounds me. I make no effort to find him, or even turn my head in his vague direction. I wouldn't be able to see him anyway, not when I am in the few small pockets of light.

In answer to his question I finish the page and present him with the journal as he finally comes into view. A rush of something passes through me, a shiver of some strange emotion. It could be love, but I doubt it, more a sense of the awkwardness that hangs between us after the kiss.

"Is this what I think it is?" He asks as he flips open the cover and takes a seat beside me. I nod my head, still too upset to answer, and turn my head to the screens while he reads through the words. I may be happy letting him read it but sitting here while he does is nothing short of off-putting. I dread to think how he will judge me.

The seconds tick by as his eyes scan the pages. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, trying to catch some glimpse of emotion on his features. There is nothing. No smile. No frown. Nothing at all to let me know what he is thinking right now.

When he finishes he carefully closes the book and sets it down on the desk in front of me as his arms wrap around my neck in an embrace. I let him hold me, sucking in his warmth and calm for a moment, happy to be safe even if the feeling is never going to last.

"You did what you had to do." He whispers in my ear as he pulls away. A tear runs down my face but I ignore it. Hopefully David won't be able to notice in the dim light. I can't let him know that I am crying – I need to look strong if I am to survive here. _But I am so tired of being strong. _

"What were you doing in here, anyway?" He asks when the moment has passed. His words jerk me back into reality, remind me that there is a world outside that door.

"Nothing really, just trying to live in someone else's life for a while, see if it helped."

"And did it?"

"More than I thought it would. You said you were looking for me." His eyes light up with purpose as he seems to finally remember why he came. Part of me is upset that he didn't just come by for a chat or to see if I am okay, but it is a tiny, tiny part in the back of my brain. _At least that's what I tell myself. _

"Oh, yes, Jonathon wants to see you about something. He asked me to come find you; you have a meeting scheduled at six." A meeting. That doesn't sound good. But David looks happy about it, the same carefree attitude that he normally conveys so I suppose it can't be too bad. He is supposed to care about me after all.

"What time is it now?" I ask him as I look around me for a clock. There aren't any and I've been here all night – the only slight hint I have is the daylight starting to peak over the horizon and flood the room with a dim glow. Even that isn't very helpful – I have no idea when the sun rises here.

""Half five, I was starting to worry that we wouldn't make it on time." A flash of real panic crosses his face and I try desperately to suppress a giggle.

"What?" Obviously I didn't try hard enough.

"It's just that timings are so important to you guys. There are worst things in the world than being late." I smile at him and laugh for the first time all night.

"That's not true..." David starts but his eyes flick down to the notebook still perched between us on the table. We both know that I am right. I just wonder if the contents will always serve to separate us, just one more reason that I will never be able to call him my own.

We stop mid-stride in the corridor as the sun breaks through the tree-line and floods the space with the warm light of day. The vast windows were cold and frankly eerie when I was here last night but in the day there is no disputing the effect that they have. Somehow just being in the light is enough to make me feel a little better.

"It's beautiful." I whisper as I stare out at the landscape, unable to take everything in.

"So are you." David whispers in my ear and wraps his arms gently around me. I'm not really sure how to react so I just stand there, bathed in light and his embrace, for a few minutes.

"We need to go." I say gently as I untangle myself from his arms, thankful now for the deadline. I turn and kiss him lightly on the cheek before continuing on along the corridor. I can't help but notice that the atmosphere between us isn't quite as comfortable as it was a few minutes ago.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Sam was discharged from the hospital late last night." David says after a few moments which drag out to be the longest of my life. I perk up at this though, eager to know that he won't be permanently damaged by my actions.

"Is he okay?" I ask as I stop mid-stride and turn to face David. He doesn't notice for a few moments, long enough to have taken several steps ahead of me.

"Yeah, he'll be fine." There is some compassion in his voice, but not much. It scares me how little he seems to care about Sam, a boy just like him at the end of the day. I would have liked a little more detail, something to suppress the worry that still eats away at my insides but I guess I will have to find that elsewhere. It is clear that with David this topic is long-since over.

"That's great, I'm glad he's okay." I say as I hurry to catch up with him in the corridor. He keeps checking his watch, always fearful of a deadline. It is like the people operate on clockwork here, not really human, never taking a moment just to enjoy life. In some ways even the fringe was a better place for that. But rather than dwell on things I cast my gaze on the growing sunlight streaming in from the large windows, on the flowers blooming in the soil outside and on David's perfectly groomed brown hair that flows across his head and catches the light. Whatever this boy does, it seems I can't help but notice him.

We walk in silence for the last few corridors, each of us busying ourselves with looking out at everything and nothing, unable to break the silence between us. To be honest I wouldn't want to if I could; when we are silent I can finally start to forget all the differences that will always stand in our way.

"It's in there." David points to a door at the end of the corridor. "Do you want me to come with you?" He stands in front of me with a warm smile on his face, any awkwardness gone for the moment at least. I would love him to come with me, but I don't think it would be right. I need to prove that I can handle life here without David by my side. _Not least to myself. _

"No, I'll be fine." I give him my biggest smile and a gentle kiss on the cheek, before I turn and rest a hand on the door handle. "I'll see you later, yeah?" He nods in reply and I push open the door hesitantly, poking my head around the corner to see if anyone is inside.

The room is smaller than most I have seen here and cosier too. It makes a pleasant surprise to have thick carpets and book-lined walls when I have only seen concrete and glass since my arrival here. A faint smell of spice fills the air and comfy chairs are positioned at various places about the room.

Jonathon sits in a chair behind a large wooden desk, probably oak judging by the colour. It must be old, an antique for sure; we don't often see oak anymore.

"Ah, Natalie, right on time." He says as he glances up from his paperwork and gestures towards a chair in front of the desk. "Please take a seat."

I do as he says, the curiosity rising in my mind as I try to figure out why I am here. Surely if it was about Sam, or my life in the fringe for that matter, I would have been arrested, not brought here for a civil meeting in a well-furnished study. _Although with these people, you never really know. _

"Can I interest you in a bite to eat?" His formality seems bizarre to me, unused to it as I am, but I politely nod my head and take a small morsel from the plate he offers. I hadn't realised until now, but I am starving; I can't even remember when I last ate. Too much has happened lately and the chance of food is so certain now that I had stopped keeping track of my meals.

"I'm sorry to have called you here at such an inconvenient time; I hope I didn't wake you."Jonathon says while I eat the food and covertly brush the crumbs off my fingers. The thought of sleep kind of makes me chuckle inside. There is almost no chance that I would've been asleep at all.

"Not a problem. I've been having trouble sleeping lately; I was still awake when David found me."

"I'm sorry to hear about that. If you want we can get you some pills to help you sleep, you can't stay awake forever."

"Thank you." I nod and smile politely but inside dread starts to build. Sleep and the nightmares that accompany it are something I have learnt to fear in the past months – the idea of medicine preventing my escape sends chills to my core. I suppose he is right though, I have to sleep at some point.  
"I had a good reason for calling you here though." _Great. I am in trouble for sure. _"We need to discuss what role you will fulfil here at the Bureau. I'm afraid in order to remain here we will have to find you a position somewhere." _That's it. He called me here to talk about jobs. _The relief is hard to suppress, hard to keep my actions polite when I feel like hugging him. Out of all the things I have been worrying about this is it, some stupid job.

"We have several options available for you to chose from," He begins but by now some of my attention has wandered, distracted as I am by the fact that he isn't about to throw me back in a cell for all the wrongs I have done. It takes all my effort to strangle the laugh building in my throat. "You can work in the canteen, or as part of a research team, you could join the teams that go into the fringe – although considering your background I doubt you would be enthusiastic about that..."

"I want to work in the control room, monitoring the Chicago experiment on the cameras." I cut him off while he continues rattling off the various positions that could be mine at the drop of a hat.

"Very well, I'm sure that can be arranged." If he is taken aback by my sudden answer then he hides it well, maintaining his ever-polite facade even in the midst of my interruption. "I only wish most people were this enthusiastic to work." He smiles so I smile back, trying to persuade him that joining his little family is the most important thing in my mind, that I am free from troubles.

"I just want to thank you for all the care you've given me – after all, you did save my life. I figure that working for the benefit of the Bureau is a good way to do that." What I don't add is that the cameras, the life in Chicago, could be the only true escape from my troubled past. If I could get myself in there, I could leave all my pain behind me for good. In the meantime the screens seem like the best kind of relief I am going to get – the chance to lose myself in a different world. A chance that for once is likely to become a reality.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It turns out that the control room is considered one of the worst places to work in the entire facility, a boring trap for those who are not clever enough to become genetic scientists but have been _blessed _with pure genes. As it happens I fit in like I was born here.

The work doesn't bore me, either, which still comes as a surprise to most of the other workers. They can't seem to understand why I could ever want to spend my life observing others when I could be doing exciting things of my own. What they don't realise is that my life has already had too much excitement for a while. For all their complaining, though, they seem to like me, and more and more strangers are becoming familiar faces as I wander the corridors. It is slow progress, but better than nothing.

I am nearing the end of my first week of shifts, mostly the night ones as I am new – although to be honest I have barely left since I got here. If it wasn't for Lauren, my manager and the girl who told me about the cities in the first place, taking pity on me and bringing me regular meals from the canteen down the hall I doubt I would have bothered to eat.

Other than Lauren's occasional demands that I eat or sleep, or the brief conversations I share with the other workers, I have been mostly left alone to work. I don't know how much of my mental state Jonathon is aware of or how much of what he knows he told Lauren about, but there seems to be an unspoken agreement that it is best to leave me to my work. _At least I haven't put anyone in hospital since I have been shut away in here._

I had thought, hoped even, that David would drop by and see me at least once, but it turns out that he is off-base at the moment inspecting a different experiment that apparently isn't going too well. _His absence is yet another reason why I haven't left this room in days – I still don't quite trust myself without him._

At first I was hurt that he didn't let me know before he went, but then I figured that he probably did and I just wasn't paying attention. It didn't really surprise me – I've been doing that a lot lately.

It is starting to get late now and the activity on the screen is somewhat quieter than earlier in the day. Most of the Abnegation are sat in front rooms, peacefully busying themselves with simple tasks; sewing and mending the same grey clothes, reading or just gazing at some unseen object that the camera failed to pick up. It is the same routines they have every evening, making it kind of boring to watch, so my eyes drift to the other screens across the wall a little.

The Erudite are having some kind of faction-wide debate – their strange kind of entertainment I suppose – and the majority of the Amity are huddled around a campfire strumming on banjos and singing to each other. I don't really get how they can always be so happy. I think it would take more than a little drugged water for me to forget my troubles. I flick the volume even lower so I don't have to listen. 

The Dauntless are the ones who really catch my attention, though. They appear to be having a party; although, with the Dauntless it can be kind of hard to tell, and even the children seem a little drunk. I silently hope that there are no suicides tonight as I watch the crowds of people who lounge around the chasm. Every so often someone will plunge towards the waterfall with only a thin metal railing to hold them back from death. I know they are meant to be thrill-seeking but a lot of the time they can be downright stupid about it. _That doesn't quite silence the thrill in my own heart, though. _

I watch their silent laughter and drunken antics for a few more minutes, partially wishing that I was there rather than stuck in this strange place. It may be safe here, but it's not exactly very exciting. Hands wrap around me from behind and for half a second I flinch, my muscles tensing for a fight.

"Nice to see you." David's soft voice whispers against my ear and I force my body to relax into his embrace. I do one last check of the screens, just to make sure that nothing vital is kicking off, before I swivel around in my chair so that I face David.

Even in the dark he takes my breath away.

Had I really forgotten just how gorgeous he is in the few days he has been away?

"I didn't know you were back today." I whisper back as my lips connect with the smooth skin of his cheek. He smells of outside, real outside, - dust and dirt and rain – and to me there is almost nothing that could be better.

"We weren't really sure how long it would take. It's good to be back, though, especially with you here." He smiles at this and it is as if all the doubt drifts out of my heart – how could I not love this boy who cares for me and is so happy to see me when he gets home. "I was going to get a bite to eat if you want to join me?" The hope in his words is plain as day and his eyes form huge pools of caring, the most puppy like eyes I have ever seen a human manage to produce.

"I've already..." _Eaten. I have already eaten. _It's what I would have said if Lauren hadn't cut me off from across the room. In a way I am relieved she did, it was a pretty lame excuse anyway. For starters it's not even true; I'm starving.

"Her shift ended yesterday morning, for christsake take her out of here for a bit." I start to protest but one look from Lauren cuts me short. I laugh quietly to myself and sling my jacket over my shoulders as I heave my aching body out of the chair. As I glance back at the desk I see through the objective lens of a newcomer for the first time all week. Dirty plates are stacked in the corner of the desk in a haphazard tower that I stopped noticing by the second day and half finished drinks litter the surface.

I slip out of the door with my hand enlaced with David's and see a faint shadow of someone clearing the desk before another figure moves into my seat like I was never there. It is scary how quickly every trace of a person can be destroyed, especially here. I squeeze David's hand even tighter and push open the door to the corridor. A cool breeze that I haven't felt for too long engulfs me and I smile – I am glad that David is back.

The cafeteria is still fairly busy but it doesn't take too long to queue for the food. At first I hesitate, afraid of looking greedy in front of David, but I quickly succumb to the smell of good food. I suppose a part of me will always be that girl in the fringe, scrabbling around in the dirt for her dinner. You never know when the food is going to run out.

David heaps his plate equally, though, which makes me feel a little better and soon we find a small table tucked away in the corner of the room. I pull my hair out from its pony tail and feel the long waves of it down my back. I don't normally let my hair down – it just gets in the way – but tonight I have nothing for it to get in the way of. I am finally free to relax.

"How was your trip?" I ask David as he sits down across from me. He has been fairly quiet since he got here, barely making a noise in the food queue.

"Okay, I guess. The city experiment there is being shut down soon, it seems like the behavioural modifications are the only way to achieve a successful outcome." He eats a few bites of food and then looks back up at me, laughter on his lips. "Sorry, you probably don't want to hear all the science behind it, it's just I've been around officials all week. It's nice to be home again."

"It's nice to have you back." I say softly enough that only David will hear it in the crowds of people. I mean it too. Impulse takes over me and I lean across the table to plant a gentle kiss on his lips and he kisses me back. For all my doubts I have about whether I can love anyone right now this feels so... _right. _Maybe I can just forget all of my troubles and have a happy life spent with David by my side.

Heat rises to my cheeks as we go back to eating and I try my best to divert my attention from his similarly blushing face. And then something, or someone, catches my eye. Sam. He sits at a table with his friends across the room, eating and laughing and joking. Relief seeps into my veins that I can finally see with my own eyes his recovery from the injuries I caused him. But something tells me that it isn't enough. That it will never be enough.

"I'll be back in a second, okay." I say to David and then I am out of my seat and melting into the crowds before he has the chance to object. My eyes focus on Sam and my feet guide me ever closer to him. Just as I reach his table I realise that I have no idea what to say to him and no right to say it even if I did. It's too late to turn back now, though; he has spotted me as well.

"What do you want?" He shouts at me, his voice rough and hard. "Here to beat me up again, are you?" He stands, curling his fists and his friends stand with him. I may be good at fighting but there is no way I can take on that many guys, especially when they are about twice the size of me. It shouldn't matter anyway, that wasn't what I came here to do.

"No." I mumble, but my tiny squeak of a noise is pale in comparison to his. "I came to say I was sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah, right. You really expect me to believe that you actually give a damn about me. Look at this uniform, hey, why would you care about a boy all dressed in green, only here to clean up after you when you make a mess. What is about my genes that makes me less human than you?" He spits the words at me and they cut me to my core. Because generally he's right, no-one else here thought what I did was wrong, no-one thought it right to punish me for my actions. If it had been David instead of Sam then things would have been a lot different. All because his uniform is blue and Sam's is green. Why should a stupid colour matter so much?

"I do care. I'm not like them." Tears start to roll down my face in waves and there is nothing I can do to stop them from coming. "I'm sorry whether you believe me or not, okay." And with that I run from the canteen, tears blurring my vision as I sprint away. After a few turns of the corridor I see a closet and willingly curl up inside, shutting the door and wedging it shut so that I can be alone in the darkness with only my own thoughts to haunt me as I sleep. David bangs on the door outside but it still doesn't take long for me to fall asleep in the pile of green uniforms that are scattered on the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I wake in a panic, utterly confused about where I am. All that surrounds me is darkness and fabric, obstacles for my flailing limps to knock and bump.

"Natalie, can you hear me?" A muffled voice reaches me through my cloth prison.

"Yeah." I call out weakly, my voice tired and croaky. Probably from crying as there are still tears on my cheeks.

"I need you to move the chair, Natalie, so that we can get you out." It takes a few more seconds for me to recognise the voice, but the calming affect it has on me helps me to know it is David. I run his words through my mind again, trying to figure out what he was saying. It sounded important, but with David it nearly always is.

I reach out with my arm and hit a hard surface, probably a chair of some kind. _A chair_. I put the chair in the way of the door when I hid in here last night. It all makes sense now – well, at least some of it does. I am now no longer stuck in some kind of laundrette cell but a janitor's closet, and not for much longer.

I fiddle to move the chair and David pushes the door open, flooding the closet with light that stings my eyes. He reaches out a hand to grab mine and pulls me gently to my feet in the corridor. When my eyes finally get used to the light I look at him, trying to calm the flash of fear that still lingers within me. He looks tired and no doubt he has been sat out here all night. From what I have already seen from him, I wouldn't expect anything less.

"I'm sorry." I croak at him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, your intentions were good. Making me sit in a corridor all night was maybe pushing it, but, hey." He smiles and wraps an arm around my shoulders, guiding me away down the hallway to the residential areas of the compound. I suppose that I have an apartment here now, but I have no idea where it is. I am more a kind of person for living at work, or janitor's closets it seems.

But for all my lack of direction David's feet are sure and steady, following a well-known pattern through the maze of branching corridors. We finally stop at a dead end and he types a four-digit code into the panel beside the door. 9527. Not that I was looking or anything. Still, it only seems sensible that I find somewhere better to hide next time I need to run off in the middle of the night – closets are fine but they aren't the most comfortable. Not to mention that the janitors would probably get annoyed after a while.

David grabs my hand in his and leads me through the door and into what I guess must be his apartment.

The room is large and spacious with windows that cast daylight into the space without compromising privacy and it is decorated with a unique and interesting style. There is an arch leading to a bedroom and a door that I assume holds a bathroom all centred off the main living area. Even though it is simple it holds a certain kind of beauty. It is immaculate too, which probably shouldn't surprise me, it is David's home, after all.

"If you want to take a seat, I'll get you something to eat." David gestures towards the two sofas and heads of to the kitchen area as I head over and sit down. It strikes me how big the apartment is, considering that only one person lives here, but I suppose that David must be pretty high-ranking to get this kind of treatment.

"This place is great." I call over to him over the noise of the kettle and he perches on the arm of my sofa.

"Thanks, I try my best." He laughs and then deliberately falls off the sofa arm and on top of me, kissing me firmly on the lips. I kiss him back, with more passion than our kisses have ever held before, but we are soon interrupted by the click of the kettle on the other side of the room. He gets up, landing a final kiss on my forehead and reaches for the cupboard to grab two mugs which he fills with hot, milky tea.

"Do you want a muffin? It's the only food I have in at the moment." He asks and I nod, reaching for the muffin and the cup of tea as he walks over and sits beside me on the sofa. I place the tea on the coffee table and start to rip sections off the top of the muffin, eating them before tearing off another piece and repeating the action.

"Oh, you eat your muffins like that." David says and shakes his head, barely managing to suppress his smile.

"That's a bit rich coming from the man who only has muffins. What happened to the rest of the food?" I joke back at him, leaning down to take a sip of my tea.

"I got distracted at the muffin section, forgot to get anything else."I laugh at his joke and tear another bit off the muffin, right in his face to annoy him. "I eat everything else at the canteen anyway."

"Makes sense, I guess." I can't remember the last time I was this carefree, able to joke around with a good looking boy with nothing else in the world to do but eat muffins and drink tea.

"That was brave, what you did." He says after a long moment of silence between us. The mood darkens a little, but not much, dragging me back to reality without quite bursting my bubble of comfort.

"Not really, I shouldn't have had anything to apologise for in the first place." I can't look at him, don't want to see the calm in his eyes, the way he can justify anything like everyone else in this place. I don't want him to try and make me see that Sam's life is somehow worth less than my own. Because it's not. If anything it is worth more, much more.

"At least you tried to apologise. It's more than most people here would have done." His words catch me off guard, so he does recognise the attitude people have here. My eyes meet his and for the first time I see a wider compassion there, not just towards me but towards the whole world.

"I know you think I must be some kind of monster," He looks away, shame and hurt blending on his face and making my heart burn in anguish. I wish I could stop him now, wipe that pain away, but I need to hear what he has to say, need to know whether I will ever truly be able to love this boy. "But I don't always agree with the way the GD's are treated. People here are twisted, I guess I have my fair share of that, but that's the way life is around here."

"It doesn't make it right."

"No, it doesn't, and I would do anything I can to change how things are." Hope blossoms in my chest. Maybe I had got David all wrong, misjudged him from the start. Maybe he could do more to help these people than I ever knew, especially with me here to help him.

"Then why don't you talk to someone, I'm sure you're words would hold some weight."

"I'm not so sure; I doubt my words could wipe away years of indoctrination." _So much for doing anything to help them._ His words sound genuine, but I have been in situations like this before. _Anything_ means anything that won't harm me, won't ruin the position I hold. True revolutionaries have to be the people who have nothing to lose, no fear to hold them back. David could never be one of them, I know that now. It was stupid of me to ever let the hope cloud my senses.

"I suppose you're right." There's no point arguing with him, he won't change his mind and I will only lose a friend – one that right now I afford to be without. What I said about David is true, he will never be a beacon of change, but I can't judge him for that – I'm not about to throw myself under the horse, either.

A beep cuts him off before he can respond and he pulls a tablet screen out of his trouser pocket. I can just about make it out from this angle, a message from Jonathon requesting his presence. Strangely, though, he also requests mine. Why would Jonathon want to see me? David I can understand, he is smart and fairly high-ranking – but me? Really?

"We better go." David says as we throw the muffin cases in the small kitchen bin and head back out in to the corridor. He doesn't lock the door behind us but I hear the telltale hissing of a magnetic system. Fancy, not many places can afford anything more than the standard lock and key approach.

"You're not as scared, this time." David says as he links his fingers with mine. By now I have grown accustomed to his little acts of affection. And, secretly, I have almost started to crave them.

"Should I be?" Last time I saw Jonathon I had a fairly good reason to be scared for my life, this time I have done nothing wrong. _Unless justice takes a little while to catch up with people in the Bureau. _

"No, not at all, it's probably just a routine meeting. I only mentioned it because it's a good sign, you're finally settling in here." He smiles and I smile, a genuine and warm gesture. He's right, with each passing day I am starting to see the Bureau more as home than ever, a place where I might finally be able to live in happiness and comfort. It is only the things in my past that I can't escape, the things that will always hold be back for as long as I live in this world. For the moment there is nothing I can do about that.

"Ah, I'm glad you could join us." Jonathon greets us as we enter the same conference room where I first met the leader who stands before me now. So much has changed since then, I wonder if he sees the differences from the dirty teenager he hauled in here just weeks ago. From the smile he gives me I assume that he can. I may not be the prettiest girl around, but I scrub up pretty nice when I get the chance.

"I hope we're not late." I say and beam at the various officials who are already seated at the tables, ready to begin. To be honest I don't care about the timings of my life, but people here do and I need to learn to fit in. Everyone has their own unique little niceties that have to be conformed to.

"No, you're right on time. If you would take a seat we shall begin." He ushers David and I towards the two vacant seats on the left-hand side of the room and begins talking almost as soon as we make contact with the chair. David squeezes my hand under the table and I don't care how immature we must look, I never want him to let go. I can't imagine what I would do if I was left alone with all these politicians. I would be fine, of course, I'm just not so sure that they would be.

"I'm sorry to have called you all here, I'm sure many of you were enjoying the precious chance for a night off-duty. But this is a serious matter that I will need all of your help in discovering a solution to." I cast my eyes around the room, trying to figure out how many of the others I can name. To my surprise Lauren sits opposite me, with several other control room workers dotted around the table. I guess it must be something to do with the experiment; otherwise we would never be called to a meeting like this. I had assumed that I was only here because of David. Evidently I assumed wrong.

"It has been brought to my attention that a certain number of the GP's from the experiment have been murdered in the past few weeks." _Murdered. Wow, this is serious. _"We believe that an individual has been picking them off after discovering what they are. Of course, this greatly damages the objective proceedings of the experiment. We cannot allow one person, a GD at that, to undermine all the hard work we have invested here. We can't let this become like all of the other experiments... a failure."

"Who is the individual?" A voice asks from somewhere beside me.

"To be honest... we don't know." Jonathon sounds almost... defeated for a moment, but it doesn't last. He quickly rebuilds his wall of strength and power and continues to answer the question with what little information he has clawed together. _Or made up – I wouldn't put it past him. _"From what we have seen so far we reason that they must be a member of the Erudite – they are the only ones smart enough to have figured out what the _divergent_ represent."

"Surely the Dauntless would be a more likely match, they are the only violent faction, after all." Another voice pipes up from across the room.

"That is a reasonable theory, however, we don't believe that they would only target the GP's in their society. It would be more likely for them to target a random selection, which clearly isn't the case." Science, that's all they ever talk about. They don't care that people, real human beings, are being murdered – probably as we speak – they only care that it could mess up their precious experiment.

"What are we going to do about it?" I ask, raising my voice higher above the chattering crowd. It silences them. We can talk about the problem till we all age and die, but I would rather do something practical to stop it while we still have a chance.

"At first we will up the levels of monitors for the cameras, make sure that we see everything that goes on in that city, that the records of any suspicious activity are even more vigilant than they are now." It's a plan, and for the moment a good one. My respect for Jonathon increases; he is able to keep cool in a state of panic and gather the information he needs.

"There are still areas of the city that aren't covered by the camera feeds." I point out, hoping that he won't just rule my point out.

"Then we will add more cameras." _They can do that. _I thought we had a minimum contact scenario with the city, but, hey, I suppose Jonathon has the final say when it comes to things like this.

"Unless any of you have anything else to add, I suggest we get back to work. I will need staff on the monitors doubled and a squad of volunteers to plant the extra cameras tonight."

"I'll do it." David shouts up and others around the room join him.

"Well that's that sorted. Prepare the cameras and get kitted up in the stealth suits. We'll meet again when we know a little more about what we are dealing with." At his words everyone files out of the room and I struggle to keep hold of David's hand as the people stream past. I am reluctant for him to leave again so soon, but I know it is important. I have my own work to be doing, anyway.

"I'll see you when I get back, okay?" He asks and gently kisses me on the cheek. "Try not to do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"I'll do my best. Stay safe." I call after him as he heads out of the door with the rest of the squad. I am the last in the room, left alone to ponder all of this for a moment before I head to the control rooms and the long shift that awaits me.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Just so you know I am now updating this every Wednesday and Saturday. Sorry if this chapter isn't every action filled but the next one will be. Hope you enjoy and PLEASE REVIEW. I can't even explain how happy I was when I got the last one! P.S. I hope you don't mind it being in David's P.O.V.**

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Chapter 10

David's P.O.V

The sky is dark by the time we head out, but the hazy moonlight means I can still make out the jeeps and the rest of team who loiter in the courtyard outside the Bureau. I look back over my shoulder one last time, seeing if I can figure out where Natalie's room lies in the maze of sprawling buildings. It terrifies me to leave her alone. I know that technically she isn't alone, of course – there are thousands of capable people in the Bureau who will make sure she is safe – but it's not really outside threats that I am worried about. Natalie doesn't seem to cope that well when I'm not there.

A shrill buzzer sounds and I climb aboard the jeeps with the rest of my group, three soldiers and one other scientist. It's hard to recognise faces in the darkness but the name tags on our jackets help to distinguish between us, reflecting what little moonlight there is to make them visible. We'll have to cover them when we reach the city, of course, but by then we will have swapped to the infrared goggles so it shouldn't matter. After all, we can't have a name tag giving away the entire mission. It is vital that no-one sees us tonight, that whatever happens we leave no trace in the city to indicate we were ever there.

We could wear the goggles now, I suppose, but it isn't really that important to know which soldier in particular I sit next to.

Even in the darkness it isn't hard to tell the civilian from the soldiers – he is the only one without a gun strapped to his waist, not to mention how he looks scared half to death already. I wouldn't have chosen him; he isn't going to cope tonight. He must be from the tech division otherwise no-one would ever risk him ruining a mission like this.

"Here you need this." A female voice tells me as she places something in my hand. I can't really see what it is but I don't need to. I have worn these before.

"What the hell is it?" The other civilian hisses at her as she tries to attach the tracker ring to his arm. I guess this is his first time out here, I lost track of the amount of missions I have attended when we had to wear the trackers. For our own safety, of course.

"It's something to stop you dying." The same girl tells him, her voice remarkably calm as she finishes adjusting the straps and checks for a signal on her own wrist screen.

"I thought that was why you were here, why do I need some stupid bracelet?"

"So that when you run off on your little adventures and get yourself lost we have a way to find you." It's one of the guys this time, a large figure wielding an assault rifle with more weapons strapped to his clothes. "God I hate scientists." He mutters a minute later, barely loud enough for me to hear. I chuckle to myself.

"What the hell are you looking at?" He turns and glares at me, the moonlight lighting his eyes. In the past he would have scared me, but by now I have grown used to the soldiers that protect us. It's not like I can't see why he hates the other scientist; his presence will only make their job harder.

"The fact that you hate scientists but you live in a compound that monitors a scientific research experiment - you've got to admit it's slightly ironic."

"Didn't get a choice, I was posted here. You're all just so useless, can't even fire a gun to save your life when you have to. It's like looking after a bunch of children." _I decide not to point out that I have met plenty of children who could fire guns. _His words sting a little but I learnt a long time ago that, while words earn the respect of scientists and politicians, actions mean a lot more to the soldiers. I draw the gun from its holster at my left side, silently pray I don't miss, and shoot it at one of the targets hung on the other side of the road. I don't hit the bullseye, but I am close enough to prove a point and a shiver of surprise runs through the others at the sudden noise. The other civilian actually screams but the soldiers mainly just laugh a little, I can't blame them – I'm laughing too. _The normal me would never do anything like that. It was flashy and boastful, but I have to say – it was also good fun. It's not every day that I get to shoot a gun or hang out with normal people._

"Nice shot, what's your name?" The large man asks from beside me. It is high praise from him, but the interest genuinely catches me off guard. Soldiers work with you, they keep you safe, but they rarely actually care who you are or what you do. It's like they have their own rules about who has the social upper-hand and usually people like me are far from the top of the pile.

"David." I smile as my voice rings clearly out into the night and the jeep begins trundling along the road, away from the Bureau.

"Well, nice to meet you." He continues. "I'm Robert, but everyone calls me Rudolph, that's Millie and Josh."

"Rudolph?" I ask. It must be some kind of weird joke, one that probably wouldn't make sense anyway.

"Yeah, his nose goes red in the cold!" Millie giggles from the front of the jeep.

"It's only because my skin is so pale." He protests but really it's no use, he is laughing along with the rest of us anyway, kinda ruining the hurt look he desperately tries to plaster on his face. "We needed code names, I guess that one kinda stuck."

"So what are the others code names?" I ask as I lean forwards to be nearer Millie and Josh. Josh is driving, his eyes fixed on the road in front of him so as not to hit the car in front, so it's no surprise when he doesn't turn to respond. It would be easier if we turned the headlamps on, but that might give us away as we get nearer the city. Sometimes safety has to take a back-seat in order to achieve the mission at hand. _We all knew that when we signed up for it._

"Phantom and Spider." Millie responds for him, twisting in her seat to face me. "Because I can blend into the night better than anyone else and he's terrified of spiders. Screamed the whole city down one time, we were this close to getting discovered." She gestures with her hands, a tiny gap formed between her fingers to demonstrate her point.

"What's your name?" Millie asks the other scientist, obviously feeling bad that he has been ignored since the journey began a few miles back. It takes a moment for him to realise that she is actually talking to him, and another minute after that to stop staring out at the blackness around us.

"Berny." He says quietly, evidently scared of the soldiers and the guns that they hold.

"Well, it's good to have you on the team. Jonathon told me you were the best when it came to the camera installation."

"Yeah, I custom built most of them myself. It's not so much _how _you install them that's the tricky part, it's _where _you put them that counts. It can be quite hard to get them in a spot where they won't be detected but can do their job and still be in view of the sunlight for the solar charge facilities." Berny seems to relax a little at this, happy to finally be talking about a topic that interests him. I doubt it interests Millie quite as much, but she is smart enough to make him feel at home. For a mission to be a success it is vital for the team to work well as a single unit when needed. So she listens. _And kicks Rudolph hard in the shin when he tries to make a snide comment. _

"It's good to hear you know what you're doing. You'll be my partner for tonight. We're tasked with setting out ten of the cameras in the Abnegation sector of the city. They aren't the liveliest people, so it should be fairly quiet, a low chance of being detected if we're careful."

He nods and starts to speak but is abruptly cut off by the static blaring over the radios.

"We are approaching the city so it's only essential noise from here on in. You should all set your radios up to the correct channels and make sure you know who you will be working with to plant the cameras." The voice is firm, but not harsh. I flick my radio out from my pocket and fiddle with the dials for a moment, setting up the right frequencies so that I can hear both the general circuit, my teams and then the individual one that will be used with my partner – whoever that is.

"You're with me." Rudolph whispers, or tries to anyway. His voice is so deep that I don't even think it would be possible for him to whisper. It's always been a difficult balance to find in soldiers – nimble and quiet enough not to be detected but strong enough to manage in a fight.

"What about Spider?" I whisper back, pointing to the front of the jeep.

"He stays with the car about a mile out from the fence. Safer that way." Surprisingly it was Millie that answered the question, while Rudolph messes about with the straps that secure his guns and checks that all the ammo is sorted neatly where he needs it. She pulls the infrared goggles up from around her neck and I follow suit, the world suddenly appearing in crisp lines. I can't imagine what this job would be like without them to help with vision.

I check that my own gun is loaded. It is only a stun gun, a mixture of a tazer and a unit to inject the memory serum. We can't be detected because it ruin the experiment, but if things get serious then knocking people out and removing their memory might be the best option. In the Dauntless sectors it probably wouldn't surprise them anyway – they could easily have got drunk enough to pass out and have no idea what happened.

In the past we've had to do that to the whole city, or at least large groups of it, but the aftermath can be hard work so it's better to try the stealth option when we get the chance. Planting a few cameras doesn't really warrant erasing an entire days memory from thousands of people.

The jeep pulls to a stop and we climb out, Millie and Berny first and then Rudolph and I shortly after. We don't wait for anyone else, just grab the bag of cameras and start running towards the fence. I follow Rudolph, trusting him to know where we are heading, my heart pounding as the adrenaline of the night kicks in. I know I would never normally say this, but I love it. The feeling that I am free.

Natalie's P.O.V

I wait, perched on a chair in the control room, and try to keep breathing as I stare at the screens. The teams left a few hours ago so they should be approaching the city limits soon. _If everything went according to plan._ I know I shouldn't be, but I am terrified. All I want to do is see David's figure appear on one of the cameras so that I can be sure he is safe.

"He'll be fine." Lauren tells me as she takes the seat beside mine. She hands me a cup of coffee and I gratefully take it, sipping down the warm liquid. Tonight is going to be long and I will need all the caffeine I can get.

"Yeah, I know." I say but it wouldn't take a genius to tell that I don't even believe it myself. I just can't shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen, that I am about to lose the only true friend I have here.

"I managed to get this." She places a radio on the desk in front of me and my face lights up. "Just don't tell anyone official and we'll be fine." She smiles at me as a tinny voice sounds over the static.

"We're nearly there now. Should be approaching the fence in another hundred yards." I don't recognise the voice but at least it shouldn't be long before the teams become visible.

"Nice, I'm all ready." It's him. David. He's okay.

"You knew it was going to be him?" I ask Lauren as some of my nerves start to fade. At least now if anything goes wrong with him I will be one of the first to know.

"It's set to his personal channel. Just him and the soldier that he's paired with."

"Thank you so much." I say and give her a quick hug. We turn our attention back to the screens then and start to watch for any dangers that the teams will have to either face or avoid. The people on the ground may be vital in actually planting the cameras, but we are essential in ensuring their safety. For all purposes we are their eyes and ears. All 120 of us that are crowded into the room.

"Natalie, look!" A familiar voice calls from across the room. I leap out of my seat and manoeuvre through the crowds. On a screen, high up on the corner, I can just make out David's figure running down an alleyway in the Dauntless sector of the city, sticking to the shadows with a large figure watching his back. He crouches down and fiddles about with something in his bag, probably a camera, but then my eyes spot something else.

I freeze for a moment, the world slowing down around me. People are rounding the corner that leads to his street. Lots of people. _With guns._ Any relief I may have gained washes away and is replaced with a cold fear as the room around me flares back into life and I reach the radio up to my mouth.


End file.
